Alastair MacKenzie - 21 Mar

We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go

Always a little further; it may be

Beyond that last blue mountain barred with snow

Across that angry or that glimmering sea

White on a throne or guarded in a cave

There lies a prophet who can understand

Why men were born: but surely we are brave,

Who take the Golden Road to Samarkand.

These evocative lines have become synonymous with the Special Air Service (SAS). But they first originated in the words of the play HASSAN The Story of Hassan of Baghdad and how he came to make the Golden Journey to Samarkand by James Elroy Flecker (18841915).

Id like to have two armies: one for display with lovely guns, tanks, little soldiers, staffs, distinguished and doddering Generals, and dear little regimental officers who would be deeply concerned over their Generals bowel movements or their Colonels piles, an army that would be shown for a modest fee on every fairground in the country.

The other would be the real one, composed entirely of young enthusiasts in camouflage uniforms, who would not be put on display, but from whom impossible efforts would be demanded and to whom all sorts of tricks would be taught. Thats the army in which I should like to fight.

The Centurions by Jean Paul Lartguy,
translated by Xan Fielding, 1968

This book is dedicated to the people who have assisted me in my journey as a Pilgrim following Odin, the God of War.

At the top of the list is my dearest wife, Cecilia, who died in September 2007. She was my guide and my rock who came with me on the journey, raising our children, Juliette and Andrew, while I confronted the demons of war.

I also dedicate this book to all the centurions who fought alongside me Kiwis, Parachute Regiment Toms, SAS blades, South African Parabats and Omani Jebalis as well as my colleagues in the cut-throat world of commerce.

This book is also dedicated to Nannette who helped pick up the pieces.

My father was a warrior, I was a warrior and my son is a warrior this is my story.

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